


Paint the Silence

by looking_glass



Series: Hushed Sounds [3]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Dysfunctional Family, Fluff, Gen, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-26
Updated: 2012-01-26
Packaged: 2017-10-30 04:31:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/327741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/looking_glass/pseuds/looking_glass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your name is GAMZEE MAKARA and you're new to this school. You're lucky you have such a BITCHIN' TEACHER who is nice enough not to mind all those times you SPACE OUT. Your PARENTAL FIGURE finally makes an appearance and you're given FINGER PAINT to play with while the tiny bro keeps giving you weird looks.</p><p>All in all, it's not a bad handful of days.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paint the Silence

Miss Peixes is most likely the nicest teacher you've ever met. When you show up alone on the first day and just smile at her when she asks where your father is, she takes your hand and squeezes it before giving you a wide grin. It's so wide that you wonder if her cheeks hurt from smiling so much but then you remember that you smile like that too when you hear the key in the front door's lock turn so you don't voice the question after all. Instead, you squeeze her hand in return before she pulls back to turn and talk to two other students, one with sunglasses and the blankest expression you've ever seen and a girl with long, dark hair, who bounces up and down and you let yourself get infected by her enthusiasm.  
  
Your new teacher leads you all into the classroom where she makes you stand in front of the class. You can see one of the children in the front row give you weary looks, which you don't get until one girl whispers _He's huge_. You suppose you are, for your age. You're a good head taller than everyone else but you don't want to give anyone the impression that you're violent so you give the girl a wide grin, who smiles back tentatively.  
  
The bouncy sister is introduced first as Jade Harley and she proceeds to tell them about her hobbies, gardening and daydreaming, for a while before Miss Peixes chuckles and sends her to sit next to a boy with a very bucktoothed smile.  
  
Cool bro is up second and you learn that his name is Dave Strider, who nods at his new classmates and mentions that he likes spinning beats. For a couple of moments, you watch him as he makes his way over to a girl with pale blond hair and wonder if he could give you some pointers because you've never seen anyone spin beats but it sounds really, really entertaining.  
  
When Miss Peixes tells them your name and encourages you to talk about your hobbies, your smile turns a bit dazed at the fond memory of Lil' Cal waiting for you at home, probably entertaining himself by juggling with your clubs or riding your unicycle. And then you remember that you're supposed to introduce yourself.  
  
You apologize with a _Woah, spaced out for a second there_ and move on to tell everyone about how much you like clowns and street performers who pick up the weirdest shit and juggle with it. You tell them about how much of a miracle that is or rather, that's what you want to do but the little brothers and sisters look a tad disturbed so you shut up and look to the teacher for guidance, who points out the free spot two seats away from bouncy girl.  
  
It's a good first day and you manage not to space out too much, even if you sometimes have to ask the teach to repeat herself because you were distracted by something. She's nice enough to do so and you'd like to call that _bitching_ only that Miss Peixes gives everyone who curses a very pointed look. At least she won't make you stand in a corner or threaten to wash your mouth out with soap. You've tried eating soap before and the taste left your mouth feeling funny and you stomach rebelling angrily. You're still proud of yourself for not throwing up because you hadn't had any food left and throwing up would have been a waste of resources.  
  
During the breaks, some kids approach you shyly and try to talk to you. You're trying to be as friendly as you can but at one point, they started giving you weird looks and politely say their goodbyes. You're fine with that, they're probably busy and it was pretty kind of them to come and talk to you.  
  
You come home to an empty flat but Lil' Cal is waiting for you, smiling oh so cheerfully, seated at the table and his arms point to a plate which has been covered by a cloth. The food has long since become cold but your heart soars with fondness for your best friend and your father. Excited, you walk over to the bedroom you share with your father, hoping to see him but he's still gone, probably working himself raw. You didn't realize your face fell until you catch your expression in the window. For a moment, you struggle with your smile until you remember your father always smiles back when you look happy and suddenly, getting your lips to agree with you is much easier.  
  
You eat the cold food for dinner and it's the best you've had in a while. You do your homework with Lil' Cal sitting in your lap, listening attentively as you tell him about your first day attending to third grade.  
  
Later that night, you wake up to light filtering through the crack in the door and your heart beats painfully loudly and quickly in your ears when you catch sight of your father's tall silhouette in the doorway. Sleepily, you sit up and rub your eyes before you remember to smile. He smiles back and it's a shaky little thing but it's a smile. He's already in his sleeping clothes so when he walks over to his bed, you slip out of your warm sheets and join him, curling up in his arms, which are so big and comfortable and cradle you close protectively. It's in the middle of the night and you're both ready to pass out but he still asks you how school went, gently petting your messy brown curls with a pale, long-fingered hand.  
  
You fall asleep halfway through but it's okay.  
  
Because you eat breakfast together and he smiles over the rim of his tea cup and doesn't even scold you when you talk with your mouth full. He has to leave long before your classes start but you're so glad you were able to spend some time with him, you're almost not sad to see him go.  
  
Until the silence eats away at the walls and your heart and your head. Before you know it, you're out the door and leaving for school long before you have to.  
  
You're the first one in your classroom and Miss Peixes seems a little surprised to see you but she doesn't pry, instead giving you a sheet of paper and some pencils. You're glad she doesn't ask because you might have told her about the looming walls of your home and the hole in your chest and the whirlwind of emotions in your head.  
  
After a while, she joins you at your table, folding herself together to fit into the tiny chairs, complimenting your drawing and wondering if you can help her with a task today. You say _That sounds important, Teach. What will I have to get up to?_ And she shows you the fingerpaint she brought with her. They're the beautiful that they steal your breath away and you start quivering with excitement, lips curling into the widest grin yet and you nod frantically when she asks if she can count on your help.  
  
Hell yeah she can.  
  
Art class rolls around shortly before lunch break and you're given a window to paint wicked pictures on, together with a tiny motherfucking bro who wields his scowl like your crazy neighbor wields her cane. He's painting the lower part while you, with your long arms and tall body are given the task to paint the top of the window.  
  
At first, you're not sure what you're supposed to draw but when you see most of the kids stick to green and blue for ground and sky, you decide to do something else. Your tiny partner is carefully drawing something on his part of the window (which, as you later realize, are all carefully constructed piles of leaves with the occasional insect. It's pretty wicked.) in the warmest colours available.  
  
Grinning, you reach for the green paint, dip your fingers into it and get to work. You have to stand on your tiptoes and reach up as high as you can but it pays off.  
  
The sky you're painting is raining light green and jade and hues of blue and indigo, violet and tyrian, the small rivers sliding down and down and before most of them stop around the middle of the window. It's raining colours and it's so beautiful that you press your fingers against the tracks, not catching the confused look your little bro shoots you as you smear the paint ever so slightly.  
  
Some of the trails slide further and mingle with the colourful landscape your scowling classmate managed to create.  
  
His ground is the root for your sky, your rain has transformed into his forest.  
  
The sun is shining outside, everything is golden and brown and filled with a caring, soothing warmth. Wind is playing with the trees' branches and a couple of kids are chasing each other around in the schoolyard.  
  
You smile.  
  
It's a beautiful day and you're glad you're alive to see it.


End file.
